Benediction
by Kera Shade
Summary: World of Warcraft fanfic about an aspiring priestess and an oath she has sworn not to break. However, when her love interferes with her promise...First story, please R&R!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft or any of the stuff associated with it. In fact, my priest isn't even named Kera, so any familiar names are purely coincidental.  


**Chapter 1 - Prologue**

Kera shivered as she pulled her ragged brown cloak tightly around her and squinted into the snow that now stung her cheeks and forehead. Her dark blue hair, which she had desperately been struggling to keep underneath the cloak, was covered in small white crystals, and the hair that had not been frozen together into large dark-blue icicles was flailing out behind her as she pushed into the malicious white wind that threatened to freeze her where she sat. Below, snow crushed underneath her elegant frostsaber's paws as it sprinted further and further without as much as a moan of complaint to its determined master. Like its rider's hair, its meticulously-groomed fur was frozen in clumps, and its deep black stripes looked gray under their blanket of snow. However, despite the aching numbness of its paws and the feel of ice touching its skin through its thick coat, it was just as determined as its rider to move onward.

Through the air before her, dense with snowflakes plummeting to the earth, Kera managed to make out a small rock formation. She smiled inwardly and buried her icy fingers in her frostsaber's mane. It immediately spotted the place she was aiming for, and its pace steadily increased. Kera leaned forward, desperate to stay as warm as possible and at the same time to keep her mount safe from the snow that was now bombarding her face with even greater force, filling her nerves with searing pain. This was of no importance to her. She had a promise she needed to keep. If she valued her own life over that promise, she would have died back there at the Undercity gates, at the threshold of despair and euphoria...

She leaned forward against her frostsaber's back and tears flowed out of her eyes, and her icy flesh cried out as they trickled from her eyes, down her cheeks, and into her frostsaber's fur. Then, as though a savage orc had just charged into her mount's left flank, the frostsaber's legs gave way and she immediately felt the rush of movement beneath her that she had become so accustomed to. For that moment, her heart lurched, everything seemed to move in slow motion, and she watched and felt with despair as she was thrown from the back of the magnificent creature that had been carrying her. She was falling.

She watched through frozen, blurry eyes as her beautiful frostsaber slid a few feet forward in the deep snow on its sides, chancing a glance back at her as she continued falling. Then, with a soft _thud_, she fell helplessly into a bed of light, puffy snow and continued rolling, unable to help it due to the velocity at which she had been thrust from the creature's back. When she had finally stopped moving, she looked upwards through her tears, through the snow to the vast gray-blue sky and blinked a few times to clear her eyes. She was in excruciating pain, and she could not move her right arm out from under her. Her staff had gotten tangled up inside of her cloak in the chaos and was jabbing into the back of her right leg, right through the precious white robes that she had made, the robes which _they_ had collected the legendary materials for, that _he_ had regarded her in with so much love and compassion when she had made the last few stitches...

When she fell, she realized, she had landed first on her head. Now it was throbbing with undeniable pain and she bit her tongue, trying to suppress a scream. While she could cry out for help, she knew that the next town was many miles away, and even if someone had been camping within range of her desperate shouts it might be one of _them_. She blinked a few times and sighed, scanning the snow a moment for her frostsaber. She could feel her own scarlet blood seeping into the fabric of her robes, and she could taste bitter, salty blood filling her mouth as she lay there, gazing at her surroundings in a daze. She attempted to move her left arm and found that she could move it, though with an incredible amount of pain. Slowly, she slid it under her cloak and delicately pulled out a long parcel in brown cloth that she had unfortunately landed on. She placed it on the snow before her and gently unwrapped it, and, upon examining the contents, smiled and wrapped it up again, holding it tightly to her chest.

Her head was dizzy from the impact, but she decided that she had might as well try to get up a little bit, at least so she could find her frostsaber and repair the damage that she had obtained from the fall. However, she found upon the painful effort of sitting up that she could not, and, as she exerted herself further, that the blow to her head was growing worse and worse in magnitude. Snow and night blended together in a waltz of death and solitude as her eyes closed, and she fell to the ground in a swish of brown and white cloth.

As she slowly faded away, the last thing she saw was a human's face, his brown hair falling gently around his eyes, and in the back it was draped into a ponytail that draped over his neck. His hands were gently holding one of hers and his blue eyes were looking into her glowing elf's eyes with utmost concern. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Only one thing, an oath that she had made long ago, repeated over and over in her mind as she was pulled toward the dark void by Death's long, white fingers.

"_Someday I'll come back," _the voice whispered. She was too delirious to recognize that it was her own, _"and when that day comes, Azeroth will open up its windows to all those who fought and shower them with praise and admiration that they rightfully deserve. And when that day comes there will be no 'horde' and no 'alliance'...just a world in which we can both find happiness."_


	2. Fading Memories

A/N: Thank you all for being patient, there was an abrupt decision and I had to move somewhere else so I had to go without Internet for a bit...in the meantime (while I couldn't play WoW) I wrote up a second chapter. It turned out a lot longer than I expected, hopefully it came out ok. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own WoW or any of that stuff, nor do I own any of the names that appear throughout this story. So if you see anyone named Kera in-game...it's not me:P

**Chapter 2 - Fading Memories**

The sky was still dark from the receding night, and purple, dying leaves drifted wearily down in the brisk, misty air. A defined silence had fallen heavily upon the city, and the only noises to be heard were the chirping of crickets in the underbrush and the occasional hoot of a lone owl resounding through the desolate pathways and lush gardens. Occasionally, a brief flicker of eyes would be seen as a huntress speeded by on her nightsaber, or as a druid who had taken the form of a panther emerged from the shadows, surveyed the area with a quick, sweeping glance from side to side, and faded back into the shadows of the leaves as quickly as it had appeared.

The High Priestess stood silently against the entrance to the Temple of the Moon and stared at the ground a few feet ahead of her, her brow furrowed in deep contemplation. There was an undeniable sense of apprehension lingering in the air, and she knew that within the next few days something terrible was about to happen, if it had not already occurred. She gazed up at the lightening starry expanse above her as she continued to ponder this feeling, and the fear of such an event had turned to lead in her stomach. It was an odd feeling because she did not _see_ anything out of the ordinary; the rugged band of orcs and trolls that had been besieging the night elf territories had been reduced to almost nothing in a fatal battle outside of Astranaar in which priestesses and huntresses had come from all the lands in order to repel the insistent attackers, an action that met with glorious success. The night elf sentinels that had been stationed throughout Kalimdor and the new lands had not reported any particular dangers, so for the time being it seemed as if this peace would remain, at least for a while.

The priestess turned her eyes to the sleeping city and she sighed softly, disregarding the small, ephemeral clouds that materialized in the air before her mouth with every breath she took. In the distance across the lake, she could see a pale, flickering orange light by the water's edge, very close to the ground. _Moonwane_, she thought to herself, smiling. She had grown rather attached to this particular family, as the mother was a very powerful priestess in her faith and the arcane, and someone the High Priestess regarded with much due respect. Though she and the mother rarely spoke of their personal lives due to duties and discipline as priestesses of Elune, she was aware that the family consisted of a mother, a father, and four daughters, each one very unique and without equal. There were two daughters who were undergoing training, one under the hunter trainers and one under the warrior trainers, and two daughters who had not decided what they wanted to do yet, although one was rarely seen, and each time she surfaced she looked even more cynical than the last.

The priestess stared at the candle flame across the water for a little while, then turned to face a druid that had just prowled up behind her. When her glowing eyes met those of the panther's, he morphed before her eyes into his elvish form, a tall man with dark green hair and light skin. He saluted her briefly before speaking.

"Tyrande," he began, clearing his throat, "I...What is it?"

The priestess gazed at him for a moment, then replied grimly, "I don't know."

He gazed at her, amazed. A gentle breeze disturbed the treetops and they shivered violently around the two night elves that stood in the darkest shadows of the coming dawn.

"The Archdruid is concerned as well," he stated, as though he could see through her nonchalant facade and into the fear that was steadily eating away at her stomach.

"Tell him that I cannot predict what will happen," Tyrande ordered in a calm voice. The druid nodded and bowed graciously before her. "Is there anything else you have to report?"

The druid nodded.

"A question," he told her. She raised her eyebrow in curiosity and gazed quickly in the direction of the faint light. To her disappointment, it had been extinguished. "This should have been delivered to you by the sentinel captain already."

"I haven't received any major reports from the sentinels for weeks." Tyrande shifted her weight and crossed her arms against her chest. The druid nodded and there was a hiatus as he collected the details and wove them together coherently in his mind.

"The sentinels stationed in the new lands have spotted something interesting," he explained. The weight in Tyrande's stomach became infinitely heavier. The night elves were at a disadvantage in those lands, and if trouble were to arise the enemy would undoubtably have the upper hand.

"Continue," she demanded, her voice shaking slightly as she spoke the word.

"According to our scouts in the area...around the Searing Gorge and the Burning Steppes situated between Dun Morough and Elwynn..."he gulped as though an important detail had come up that needed to be said, but the very thought of such a thing sent shivers down his spine. He sighed and his expression immediately appeared more relaxed. "...Well, many dwarves have taken residence in the area, and they are extremely corrupt. Also, there are many orcs around the area which we know for certain are not sided with the savages we are forced to fight daily in our towns. The sentinels also report a large number of dragons and dragonkin that have begun to flourish in the area, and they fear that they will spread to more regions..."

The druid sighed as though a heavy burden had been lifted from his chest, but he still bore a concerned expression on his solemn face as he stared into the priestess's dimly glowing eyes, waiting for her response. She closed her eyes and her head drooped a bit. The druid, however, was growing impatient and glared at her menacingly.

"Do you want to me to give the sentinel captain your order to send more sentinels over there to deal with the threat?"

Tyrande shook her head.

"No," she answered quietly as if the gesture hadn't been enough. The druid tapped his foot but stopped once he realized the authority of the elf he was in the presence of.

Tyrande knew what she needed to do, if she did not want to see her beloved city of Darnassus one day enveloped in the flames of war, the sacred forest desecrated and burnt to the ground.

She spoke three words, and they were all she needed to tell the druid for him to understand her plight.

"Amara...Amara Moonwane."

* * *

Kera sat in a corner and watched as her mother's silhouette danced gracefully across the golden horizon. Her mother's long, elegant blue hair was tied up hastily in a ponytail with a white silk ribbon she had crafted only seconds before using only a knife sitting on the small table by the stove and an ancient linen robe that she had ripped long ago when she had first begun her training as a priestess, yet she never bothered to repair it because it was a "sacred possession" and she "wanted it to remain in the condition she had last worn it in." Kera was skeptical of this however, as she hadn't even flinched when she worsened its condition even further to make a simple hair tie. Regardless, she had a great deal of respect and love for her mother, as she had given her everything she had and taught her everything she knew, and at the same time she was a very loving individual. To Kera, it always seemed like she had a smile frozen on her youthful face as if this would ease all the pains of the declining world. 

Her plain white dress swished merrily as she danced across the gardens in front of her home, her wide sleeves rippling merrily in the calm breeze, rich with the aroma of sweet peacebloom and bitter silverleaf, and enriched by the aroma of swiftthistle wafting through the open air from her stove, on which a kettle had just been placed only minutes before. The flames inside had been recently stoked, and steam was pouring out into the air from the spout and forming in swirling transparent clouds around the ceiling. Kera's mother reached out her arms and the breeze filled her sleeves, and for a moment one could have sworn she was not a night elf like her daughter but a beautiful white butterfly dancing amongst the vibrant flower beds, or a lost angel with the sad delusion that this was heaven.

After a few minutes, the kettle clattered noisily and she hurried back past Kera and into the room, where she pulled out three wooden cups from a shelf on the wall above the stove and set them on the table beside the knife she had used to make her hair ribbon. Careful not to burn herself, she wrapped her gentle hands around the wooden handle of the kettle and lifted it off the stove, quickly turning to the cups and pouring an equal amount of tea into each. She set the kettle on the table beside the cups and turned to Kera, smiling.

"Well I don't need to ask you if you want any, it's written all over your face!" she chuckled, and Kera smiled at her, rising to her feet. She walked over beside her mother and picked the cup closest to her up, careful not to spill a drop.

"Where are Serya and Luna? And father?" Kera asked, glancing around the one room that constituted their home. Her mother shrugged in response and her smile diminished slightly.

"Well your father warned me this morning that he might not be home until nightfall..."

She frowned and lowered her eyes. Kera's heart sank a bit. Her mother never acted depressed, and if she did something was truly wrong.

"Is father all right?" Kera asked, gazing up at her mother with wide eyes. Her mother smiled, realizing that Kera had detected this slip of emotions.

"Oh...he's fine. And Luna is training, Serya should be home any minute now to join us," her mother responded joyfully. Kera smiled, hoping this could in some way ease her mother's heart. She knew that if she asked what was wrong her mother would beat around the bush until she entirely forgot about the original question. Her mother must have seen this in her eyes, as she frowned again.

"Kera...would you really like to know what I am unhappy about?"

Kera gazed into her mother's beautiful eyes and responded with a tiny nod. Her mother sighed.

"I suppose there's no harm in telling you," she began. "Recently there has been a very uncertain feeling in the air. My sense of coming events is becoming feeble, and even High Priestess Whisperwind has noticed the change, and we are beginning to grow concerned."

Kera frowned.

"Do you think it has something to do with our loss of immortality at the end of the battle against Archimonde?"

Her mother shook her head.

"It has nothing to do with that, I'm sure. Up until a little while ago things were as clear for us as ever...My powers as a priestess come from Elune, not from the extinct World Tree."

"But that doesn't necessarily mean something terrible will happen, does it?"

She bowed her head and Kera knew that she had just further depressed her mother. She tried to apologize but her mother held up a hand to stop her.

"I suppose...it does not...but this feeling..."

Her mother shuddered and she took a sip of her tea. After she had swallowed it and its rich taste had filled her taste buds and its warmth had filled every part of her body, she smiled at her daughter.

"It's very good!" she said, giving Kera unneeded encouragement to drink some. Kera did so without hesitation, and smiled at her mother again.

"It is," she replied, and she opened her mouth as to ask a question but shut it immediately.

"What's wrong?" her mother asked, regarding her curiously.

"...Nothing," Kera replied, glancing down at her feet. She knew her mother could see that she was lying, but she was not questioned any further. She gazed upwards again and smiled, trying to cheer up her mother. "You'll have to teach me how to make it sometime."

Her mother stared at her for a moment, then laughed.

"All right, I promise."

With that, her mother stood beside her and wrapped her left arm around her daughter's shoulders, holding her very, very tightly.

* * *

The chilly morning had quickly died off, and now the sun beat down with such fierce intensity that it was rather warm, although an icy breeze still sent the royal blue flags of the alliance rippling wildly. Kera was walking at a slow pace down the bridge connecting the Cenarion Enclave to the bank at the center of the lake, and for a moment she stopped and looked down into the water at her reflection. She really did look very much like her mother, with her dark blue hair, her pale, joyful face, and her eyes that seemed to always be telling the truth. She had a dark green wool cloak wrapped around her to block out the frigid wind, yet she could feel the rays of the sun slowly burning her small pink face. 

The breeze picked up for a moment, sending fallen leaves skittering across the bridge and onto the glassy surface of the water, which rippled slightly as the wind skimmed its surface, and filled her cloak, causing it to lash out violently. When it died down, Kera continued moving, walking past citizens and sentinels alike, looking through them as if they did not even exist. When she had arrived before the bank, she turned her eyes to the south and took in the sight of the Temple of the Moon. Her mother had never permitted her entry as she had with her other sisters, but this was specifically because Kera despised all war, which the priestesses were forced to play a major role in, and whether or not she had the faith and skills to be a priestess meant absolutely nothing to her. As priestesses were usually called to their duties from birth by Elune, her mother had immediately concluded that Kera was not meant for priesthood.

Yet...

Kera felt a certain degree of longing today as she stared at the large marble building, its face almost blinding due to the sunlight that was reflecting off of it. It was not as if she wanted to be a priestess. In fact, having to be involved in any type of bloodshed whatsoever was the last thing she wanted out of her life. However, over the past few years, though she kept it hidden from her family, strange things had occurred whenever she passed the building.

The first time it had happened had been an autumn morning as she walked from her home, past the bank, and to the gardens. As she passed the Temple, she had suddenly felt dizzy and passed out, and in the dream that followed she had seen blurry visions of a great war in which the alliance was vastly outnumbered. She could not say this was a prophecy, although when she woke up she found that she was in the exact same place where she had fallen, with several priestesses looking down at her with worried eyes. She did not know quite what to say at the time, so she quickly scrambled to her feet and ran off into the gardens, trailed by the eyes of a dozen or so priestesses. Since then, she had not passed out in front of it again, but every time she passed by it seemed as if something was calling her inside.

Another powerful gust of wind made its way under its cloak and through her thin clothes, and she shivered. It was very rare that if a priestess had a family, she did not bear any children who were not meant to be priests, let alone in a family with four children. Though she had strong suspicions that she was beginning to develop such powers, Kera chose not to tell anyone, as this would surely mean her mother forcing her to leave her family and spend years undergoing rigorous training to become what she feared she would one day have to become in a time rife with war and blood.

Her sisters had already begun to undergo various types of training. Serya, the oldest, had begun training from the time she could walk in the ways of the hunter. Kera had never seen her skills, but she was apparently well regarded, as passing strangers would smile at her and ask her if she was Serya's sister, and when she said yes they would comment on her sister's precision with a bow and arrow and how in-tune she was with nature. Her other older sister, a year younger than Serya, was named Luna and was quite skilled as a warrior. She, too, had been training for years, and her discipline was amazing. Lately she had been training for longer periods of time, often not arriving home until late at night when everyone was asleep.

"_She's being sent off to war,"_ one of Kera's friends had said as they walked together through the Tradesman's Terrace one afternoon two weeks prior. Kera had not heard anything else to confirm this, but perhaps that was because such matters were whispered between highly-ranking elves.

The final sister was younger than Kera, but she had vanished almost entirely. Occasionally she would surface, her skin pale and her placid eyes skimming the horizon as if a band of trolls would at any moment swoop in on windriders and begin to ransack the city. Her hair had been hacked off unevenly in the back, as if she had done the job herself with a simple knife, and she dressed in leather pants and leather vests so worn that patches had been sewn over the numerous tears that the clothes had sustained. Kera knew almost nothing of her, other than the fact that her name was Tyris. Even when they had all lived together as a family, Tyris had always isolated herself, eating abstemiously at dinner as far away as she could get from her family, as though they disgusted her, and during the daytime she would go to her favorite place in the gardens of Darnassus and curl up, her knees to her chest, her back leaning against the rough bark of a great tree that shaded her with leaves that bent low and enveloped her in a sort of dark embrace. Once Kera had found her as she ambled gracefully across the lush green grass, but Tyris had merely gestured for her to go away and leave her to her thoughts. Since then, when she did appear, she spoke to absolutely no one and regarded everyone with a supercilious air about her.

When she found herself in front of the bank, she gazed at the Temple with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Occasionally a priestess would walk out, turn to the right or to the left, and head off to attend to some business or another that was unknown to her. Other than that, they tended to remain inside of the Temple. Her mother was an exception due to her rank and family status, so she spent a great deal of her days raising her family with great care. At least once every afternoon she would disappear from the home for about an hour to pray to Elune inside of the temple, and at least once a week she would leave early in the morning before her children had awoken, leaving behind three small, neatly folded packages containing what the daughters would need for the day ahead, and would return to the home while they were all fast asleep.

Turning to face the Temple, Kera began to walk slowly in that direction, her pulse quickening and her stride gradually lengthening as she drew nearer. Soon she was standing in front of it, staring up at it through dazed, empty eyes, completely oblivious to what she was doing. A chill ran down her spine as her eyes scanned the building's marble, ivy-covered face, and came to rest upon the columns and the translucent purple windows through which she could see the light misty light emanating from the moonwell inside. Despite the fact that something inside seemed to be tacitly calling out to her, she resisted the urge to peer inside. She knew that if she were to gaze upon the moonwell, her destiny would be sealed as quickly as she had entered. With much effort she turned to the west, pulling away from the invisible hands that were tightly clutching her retreating cloak, and continued westward to the gardens, shattering the grip the Temple had on her. As she walked further and further away, she was determined not to turn her head and glance back at the place that she dreaded. Even if it were the end of all Azeroth, she swore silently to herself that she would never become corrupt as had all of the priestesses that knelt down inside of the temple, praying, waiting to be sent off to war to kill, kill, and aid in the killing of thousands.

Kera had reached the garden within instants, and she immediately set off for another minute or so until she reached a specific spot where the mountains surrounding Teldrassil seemed to rise slightly higher than usual, and the low-hanging branches of trees obscured a small clearing. Kera carefully climbed a small distance up one of the mountains (Darnassus being situated such that it was nearly at the top) and, watching her feet as she placed them meticulously before her, made her way to the left, where she ducked underneath a branch and slid down about five feet until her feet landed with a soft thud on the firm ground of the clearing. It was a pleasant place, with yellow sunlight filtering in between sparse branches that formed a sort of roof overhead. Peacebloom and mageroyal were sprouting in clumps over the sun-speckled ground, and under the trees, large red-speckled mushrooms had bloomed, their tops dotted by sparkling droplets of water, and earthroot seemed to sprout out of every rock, making it appear as though the rocks themselves were alive.

A small, clear stream ran through the center, and an elvish woman was kneeling beside it with a small velvet satchel. Occasionally she would reach inside, pull out a pinch of something minuscule that Kera could not quite make out from her location, and put it on the ground, patting the soil down after she had done so. Kera was rather surprised by this visitor to the sanctuary, as she had assumed that she was the only one who knew about it. The woman had obviously heard her footsteps rustling in the grass, but she pretended to pay no heed until Kera was literally lurking over her shoulder. She turned around to look up at Kera and sat upon her feet, her light blue hair spilling down over her purple skin and her elegant white robe, which now had accumulated some dirt about the knees and the bottom. Her lips were deep purple and Kera could easily tell that she had a few years to her name from her face, but her eyes were full of care and compassion and at the same time fierceness and justice. A spot of golden light reflected off of her silver circlet, and she gazed up at Kera for a moment, absorbing everything about the girl's innocent appearance from her dark blue hair to the very pigment of her skin color. The woman smiled up at her.

"Hello," she greeted kindly, her voice very sharp despite the friendly tone she seemed to try to be conveying. Kera thought for a moment that the woman might be angry at her or feel some sort of enmity towards her, but she could see in the woman's eyes that she was just trying to be friendly. "And what are you doing here?"

Kera just stared at her and blinked a few times in rapid succession, feeling as though she were being told that she didn't belong. The woman laughed.

"I'm sorry," the woman continued, smiling, "I didn't mean it like that. I have been coming to this place for a very long time, and I must admit this is the first time I have ever had company." She stared at the sky through the trees. "Quite honestly I had never expected to."

"Same for me," Kera replied. "I have been coming since I was–"

"It's a nice spot, don't you think?" the woman interrupted as if she hadn't heard Kera talking. For a minute Kera felt quite insulted. "How the wind rustles the trees, and the light reflects off the stream, and the air smells as fragrant as if you were to pick up a flower and deeply inhale the scent. It's very...tranquil."

Kera attempted to talk again, but she found that she could not before she was once again interrupted.

"Anyway, if you wish I will leave you to your business, I'm sorry for interrupting you, I'm rather in a hurry to get done."

Kera felt a tinge of guilt and instantly forgave her, perhaps because she remained silent for a while in order to allow Kera to reply, but she instantly decided that her questions were not worth asking in the first place and therefore buried them in the back of her mind.

"What are you trying to do?" Kera asked instead, gesturing towards the bag in the woman's hand.

She smiled widely and replied, "Planting."

Kera looked behind her and saw a long, slim row of freshly laid wet soil extending along the riverbank. The woman's hands were a bit muddy, but most of the filth had been washed off in the waters of the stream.

"...May I help you?" Kera asked after a moment. The woman smiled even wider and reached out, gently holding her hand. She pulled it slowly towards her, and let go for a moment to gently pour a small amount of seeds into her palm. Each was about the length of a grain of rice and the width of a strand of hair, and Kera found that it was very difficult to keep them from slipping through her fingers, even if she held them as closely together as she possibly could. The woman pointed to the other bank of the river and Kera jumped nimbly over, walking to the bank parallel where the woman had started her row and bending down. Her mother had always loved plants, so she did not need any explanation as to the task at hand.

Kera found as she worked, although they said nothing to each other, that she rather admired the woman for a reason she could not begin to imagine. She had acted slightly rude at first, but her eyes seemed to smile as if she had a secret, something that only she could comprehend and that she held dear to her heart, and that secret was the very meaning of life itself. After they had been working arduously for about an hour, the woman beckoned Kera over.

"I want to give you something," she explained, "for your help."

When Kera arrived before her, she stood up and Kera immediately felt as if she were not a night elf but a dwarf. The woman who stood before her was extremely tall, and at her full height her eyes pierced into Kera's flesh like needles of solid ice. She pulled a small flask out from underneath her robes, and as she rested her left hand on Kera's shoulder Kera instinctively closed her eyes. She heard a small pop and the sound of liquid hitting the ground, and then the woman's icy palm touched the flesh of her forehead, covered in some sort of aromatic oil, and this oil in turn began to trickle down her eyes to her cheeks to her neck and inside of the neck of her simple robe. The hand holding her shoulder tightened around it, and the woman held her hand against Kera's forehead until the hand and the oil underneath had become warm.

"Yes..." the woman whispered as if she were talking to herself. "Yes, this girl...is the one..."

The woman took her hand away, and Kera opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and hazed over as if she had just woken up, but when her eyes were fully opened her senses seemed to have intensified. The water shone like crystal under the gorgeous rays of golden light, and the very ground beneath her seemed to push up against her feet, the blades of grass tickling her feet, and the gentle wind seeming to sing a gentle tune as it swept across her face. The air was filled with sounds she had never heard before, perhaps because she had previously been too careless, too oblivious to the nature surrounding her.

For the first time, Kera had truly become aware of her existence as an elf in a great, vast plane of life that buzzed around her like a choir of divine voices singing in whispers. The dew-covered leaf dangling from a branch in front of her was no longer a leaf but an entity, holding steadfastly to life. Rather than a sort of meaningless chirping, the birds seemed to be speaking to each other in a sort of archaic language as they sat perched on the higher boughs, singing their sweet tales to one another. The crickets were bards; the trees strong guardians keeping her safe from potential external dangers. Indeed, it was a wonderful world she had been delivered into.

The woman backed slowly away and gazed into her eyes, and for a moment Kera could have sworn she saw a small, crystal tear slip down her cheek, but she knelt down and continued her work, and Kera decided that she had ought to do the same in order to spare this woman a bit more precious time. She effortlessly hopped across the stream, suddenly feeling as though all her weight had been lifted from her, and continued slowly and meticulously, handling the earth with enough care to be mistaken for a druid in an instant. Together, they had finished after another hour's worth of work, and the woman stood by the stream and gazed at the job that they had accomplished with a sense of glowing pride.

Kera curtseyed politely, wishing the woman well in her day-by-day duties and bidding her farewell when she placed a hand on Kera's shoulder, smiling widely at the girl who had renewed something inside of her, as if Kera's very existence put the woman at rest. Kera stared at her with curiosity, saying nothing, as she removed her hand in order to gently pull a beautiful necklace off over her head and slipped it over Kera's. It was very beautiful - the chain was very fine, forged of pure gold, and a small elunite crescent moon hung from it, set with very tiny pieces of shadowgem and pearl. Microscopic runes were engraved into the elunite, and Kera could not begin to imagine what craftsman would have sacrificed so much of his time to make such a perfect piece, and with what tool he could have done such fine work.

"Thank you," Kera whispered, unable to raise the volume of her voice any higher due to shock, "but you don't need to..."

The woman just nodded at her and drifted away with a quickness that Kera was amazed by, and within seconds she had vanished. Stunned and confused, Kera left the clearing to return home. The sun was setting and her mother would undoubtedly be concerned as to her location.

* * *

As Kera neared the temple, a group of priestesses dashed out, running in the direction of the bank. For a reason she could not quite fathom at the time, her heart stopped. She immediately began to run, throwing off her cloak as it impaired her running speed, and followed them, desperate to catch up and ask what was amiss. To her dismay they ran very fast, so she was left straggling behind. As she ran past the bank, a group of druids ran by her in travel form, with a few more speeding through the waters far to her right in the direction of the Cenarion Enclave. She yelled out to them but none even did as much as cast a glance back at her. They had more urgent matters to attend to. 

Kera's pace slowed to a walk as she finally reached the Cenarion Enclave. There was a large group of civilians congregating around a home on the border of the Enclave and the Craftsman's Terrace. Kera could feel the color fading from her cheeks as she continued running again, ignoring the fact that she was fatigued from running so quickly. She shoved through the crowd, using her small size to her advantage, and finally worked her way to the front, where her eyes met with a horrible and grotesque sight.

There were corpses everywhere, some mutilated to the point that she could hardly tell of what they were corpses of. Sulking nightsabers nuzzled the sides of their huntresses, sprawled over the ground in front of the home with armor crimson from bloodshed. On the floor of the home were corpses of creatures she had never seen before, presumably orcs due to their green skin and large muscles, and the chill that ran down her spine when she saw their twisted, cruel faces. Clutched tightly in their hands were daggers coated richly with some sort of dark green substance and the unmistakable color of night elf blood. Nearby several huntresses were mending their wounds as well as the wounds their sabers had sustained.

However, there was one thing about the scene that would scar her life forever, even more so than the lifeless flesh and blood that now covered the floor of the home..._her_ home. A druid that was standing beside her realized that she was standing there, and tried to turn her away from the horrible sight, but it was too late. Her eyes caught sight of two bodies, one doubled up on the floor by the stove, and another laying on the floor, surrounded by the concerned faces of priestesses and druids alike, their faces lit up by the magical energies that emanated from their hands. She had to run closer to confirm that her suspicions were true, and she subconsciously reached out to push away the arms that were trying to grab her and keep her back. A few huntresses that had recently appeared at the scene tried to keep her back, but she ducked away from them, continuing to sprint in slow motion towards the bodies.

Her father was dead.

Wounds from the daggers of the orcs covered his body, and it was obvious that he had put up quite a fight from the number of enemy corpses that surrounded him and the number of wounds that he had sustained in the defense of his home. Kera dropped to her knees, tears already flowing from her eyes, and cried, and the huntresses that had been pursuing her instantly stopped and let her do as she wished upon the realization that she was the daughter. Her father had been a wonderful person. He was one of the most skilled druids the alliance had to offer, and he was on the Archdruid's right hand throughout his entire life, and at the same time he had always showed so much compassion towards his children, even if he wasn't home most of the time due to the fighting. Out of a last hope that he might somehow be alive, Kera clutched his shoulders and shook violently, hoping that he would somehow spring to life. To her dismay, he did not.

"Resurrect him!" she cried at the priestesses, all of which had their backs to her. "Oh please...please...resurrect my father!"

One turned to her with stoic eyes and gently told her, "We cannot. His soul has long since departed...for a better place."

With that she turned back to the elf who needed attention, and now Kera rushed over to this body.

It was her mother's.

Unlike her father, she was still alive, although barely. She was breathing heavily, and her breaths were brief and filled with suffering. She was attempting to mutter something in between breaths, although it was in no language that Kera could discern, and she had been taught from an early age both Darnassian and the Common language. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were clutched in front of her very gently. Her beautiful yet simple white dress was completely ruined, torn to shreds by blades and covered in her own blood. Despite the suffering that Kera knew she was in, she showed no evidence of crying. Of all the simple things that her mother did that she highly appreciated her for, Kera had never seen her mother cry.

Kera forced her way in between two of the priestesses, and when they tried to push her aside she merely forced her way back in. She reached across and gently placed her hand on her mother's.

"Is she going to live?" Kera asked in a hushed voice. The priestess to her left bowed her head.

"No," she replied, "but we had might as well try."

The lump in Kera's stomach, already the size of all of Azeroth, had suddenly doubled in size.

"Why...what's wrong?" she persisted, gently squeezing on her mother's hand. She was crying even more, but she was completely unaware of it right now.

"She's poisoned, and they have used a type of poison that cannot be cleansed from the body."

Kera glanced around her at the priestesses that were desperately trying to keep her mother alive and at the druids who were trying just as hard to purge her body of the vicious poison, no matter how futile. Her amount of respect for them had just increased ten-fold.

Her mother's eyes opened very slowly upon hearing the voices, and she whispered, "Kera?" into the air, not looking at the elves around her. Kera moved closer to her mother's face, and the priestesses moved to allow her to do so.

"I'm here," she responded through her tears. "I'll always be here...you can make it out of this alive."

Her mother smiled and tilted her head very slightly. Her breathing slowed but each breath was a horrible wheeze, as though living pained her greatly.

"I want you to tell Luna and Serya that I love them...and tell Luna that when she goes off to Ashenvale next week, she should be careful. Just because they were defeated at Astranaar does not mean they will not continue to ambush us and fight us with full force whenever they deem appropriate. And if you ever see Tyris, tell her that I love her as well, and that I wish her luck with her choice to live as a rogue."

This bit of information stunned Kera. _A rogue?_

"Mother...you should save your strength!" she ordered, beginning to cry even more heavily. "You can make it through, you have to!"

Her mother just smiled. "I love you too Kera, and I know you'll become a fine elf regardless of what happens."

Kera's heart was beating audibly, and she tugged the necklace the woman had given her off over her head. Her mother's attention was drawn to it for the first time as she pressed it against her chest, sobbing.

"I am so sorry mother...this wouldn't have happened if I had not...if I had not...if I had returned sooner. I am so sorry..."

Her mother seemed to be surprised by the necklace for a moment, and she mustered some last minute strength to reach up and hold the hand that Kera was clutching the necklace in. She smiled, happier than Kera had ever seen her before. A single tear slid softly down her face, and she whispered to her daughter, "Kera...you have found your destiny. I'm so proud of you...I...I..."

Her mother began crying as heavily as she was, but they were tears of joy.

Seconds later, her mother passed away, a bright smile on her face and tears flowing from her eyes.

Unbeknownst to her, a slim arm had wrapped itself around her shoulders, and she was being led away as she cried her endless stream of tears.


End file.
